"Oh ho ho! Yes! Wild is strong, yes. Orcs is stronger, yes. BUT..."
Wild beams with excitement at Rodrik's offer of venturing beyond the town walls to go hunting. He uses a horizontal hand to measure the strength of each group, slowly reaching higher and higher until he extends well above his own bald head (still standing on his chair seat for added height).
are the strongest by all. Too big and strong for alone fighting. How strong be humans clan? Kill you giants here!?"
Grinning widely with crooked teeth, he looks to Rodrik, Robin and Vethorm expectantly to tell more of their experience.
Ranhild simply watches on in a mix of amusement and concern at the wild rantings of the aptly named gnome, and the odd goblin. It was quite clear that Trunau was a far sight different any other settlement she'd encountered, but the eclectic mix at this festival was against all odds.
"Uh, no, thank the gods. No giants have ever bothered Trunau. Most of the tribes around here can't maintain big enough food stores to keep one around."
"This Wild guy's like a shorter, male, more cheerful version of my grandma..." Vethorm thinks to himself. He turns and scratches his cheek, revealing another tattoo on the other side of his face. This one is no god, just a common insect in Belkzen, the rockwasp, but one Wild would still recognize for its vicious sting, clearly meant to impart the lad with a similar viciousness.
Robin crosses his arms, considering how to let Kurst down lightly. He had ideas buzzing around in his head. Ideas that demanded time at the forge. No doubt Sara would be willing to give him a break, but if she was that meant more time on personal projects. Then again, maybe a run with the patrol would have some unexpected inspiration, even if, by all accounts of people willing to talk about it, it was bone grindingly uneventful most of the time.
He pats Kurst on the shoulder "I don't think you're so sorely pressed that you'd want me there. Unless it's just to tell stories and lighten the mood on the treks outside the walls. That, and it seems you have some volunteers right here." He points to Wild.
With the archery contest coming up, he waves to Purg to lead the way.
At Wild's words Hilde stops smiling. "Vethorm's right. Giants don't come this far out of the Mindspins, thank the Gods." With an obvious effort, she smiles again. "Let's not talk about them here--this is a happy occasion! Now come on...there are contests to win!"
At the mention of giants, Ranhild perks up, her bloodline's history of battling giants making it quite the subject of interest. She does however agree with Hilde that this joyous celebration was not the place or time.
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Kurst smiles at Vethorm as the half-orc explains the reasoning giants don’t tend to come around. ”We occasionally will see an ogre or a troll, but never any true giants. And Hilde is correct, now is not the time or place for such topics. Forgive my brother, it is easy for him to follow in our father’s dour foot steps.” At this jab, Rodrik blows hard into his ale and darts an eye to Kurst, but there is no anger in the look and Rodrik hides a smile with his mug.
The festivities go on into the night and everyone is excited for Ruby, as well as the general peace that Trunau has experienced lately. The archery contest and the porridge eating contest come up, but the kids seem most excited for the hiding and seeking games that conclude the night. By the last event most of the adults are winding down but a few of the more experienced young adults join in. Through out the night many groups come together to chat and they always welcome others to come join in the conversation.
Not being much of an archer, Hilde doesn't try to compete there.
Purg leads Robin to the archery yard as requested, though Purg does not take part. It would not be fair to the rest of the town, as Purg is likely as fine an archer as has been seen in these parts.
He would help the children hide later, he was great at hiding. Of course they couldn't see into the dark like he could, or squeeze quite as small, but they would still do well.
"Robin going to shoot bow? Big fun. Should help others have good time."
Wild saddles a good deal of disappointment at hearing that no giants were felled recently in or around the town and more so that no one wants to talk about it. His smile fades slowly as he steps off the chair and grumbles to himself in a much quieter voice.
"Hmmm... Ok. More contests. Need more strength."
Clearly deflated and choosing to eat his feelings, Wild wanders off toward the porridge eating contest. His excitable nature eventually returns after winning the mock title of the "Biggest Slop", having gotten more food on himself and others nearby than in his mouth.
Before the evening's end, Wild tries to talk to anyone and everyone who endures his presence long enough. Mostly interested in boastful, exaggerated tales of danger and death.
A lot of people found out that he is not a very good conversationalist.
Robin isn't much of an archer really, but he has a steady hand, a keen enough eye, and prefers to keep his distance from anything particularly dangerous. As a result, he picked up a little bit of archery while traveling with his erstwhile found family. "Purg, when you put it that way how can I resist. Let's give it a try. You too of course. Hold back if you're feeling like you might put us amateurs to shame." He chuckles.
Despite thoroughly enjoying the entire celebration, Ranhild was never the best talking to people she didn't know. When finding herself in an awkward conversation she tended to dwell on things she was familiar with, in this case weapons, learning as much as she could about the hope knife and it's significance.
Vethorm follows Robin and Purg over to the archery competition, watching them shoot.
Purg shakes his considerable head. "No, Purg not shoot. Not fair to ch... kids." He knew the word, but had trouble pronouncing some things in the common tongue.
"Rod-rick say this not Purg's day, this Ruby day. Is smart listen to smart person." He looks at the archery targets with a bit of longing, he would have loved to be the star, but some things are more important. To be accepted. To have a people, a family. These people had been very good to him through the years, and if all they asked was that he not embarass children having a fun time with their games, that was the smallest price they could ask. "I not able hold back. I do, I not do, but I never half-do." He smiles, a genuine smile to be certain. "Purg not able lie. Is not the way of Gorum. Try best. Fight fair. Not know what Bolka do, but Gorum have it right." He knew Bolka was who Hilde served, not Robin, but it had stuck in his mind.
Vethorm takes up a crossbow, struggles to span it, and aims at the target. But he's not actually aiming at the bullseye. Instead, he exaggerates the sway up and down, as if he's having trouble even lifting its meager weight and pulls the trigger, hoping to hit the target at least, but to make such a poor shot that everyone else's looks better by comparison. That's what he did best, be the bad example to elevate the excellence of others. It's what he did with his brothers and sisters, what he did with Rodrik and Kurst on patrol...the only time he'd ever TRIED to excel at something was as Agrit's apprentice, and that had been an unalloyed failure. At least failing on purpose made him feel better about it.
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The town’s excitement is clear as the night continues on. The archery contest brings a lot of the kids out to try, along with a few others. Jargin plays host but it is clear he has little of the charisma his son Rodrik has. Most of the contestants make a good show with the crowd cheering. Archery is clearly not a pursuit Ruby practices much, but she cheers as loud as the rest of the town for each of her competitors, including the eventual winner a young boy only a year older than she is. She may not have won, but it is clear she had a wonderful time.
Next up is the eating contest and the chaos that inevitably happens. Ruby eats her fill but as it becomes clear that Wild is wearing more porridge than he is eating, Ruby takes the opportunity to launch a spoonful at the other participants. Things escalated from there. Everyone was having fun until one of Ruby’s older brother’s threw a hand full at Halgra. The silence turned deafening, but the Chief Defender simply smiled and laughed. Master Kessen Plumb declared the contest a tie among everyone, but declared Wild as the Biggest Slop since he clearly started the trouble.
The night continues on with most of the kids running around, though Ruby and a few others take a rest after clearly eating too much. Rodrik and Kurst are found sitting together at the tables they gathered with the tug-of-war contestants and the motions for the group to join them once more. Rodrik has a fresh ale for everyone as he addresses the group.
”Well, that was an interesting contest.” He smiles at Wild and hands a full mug to crazy gnome. ”I once again want to thank you all for helping today. I hope for those new to our traditions won’t think less of us. Life in Trunau can be dangerous, and this tradition serves as a reminder of both that life is worth living but also that it is every citizen’s duty to protect us all.”
Kurst nods along with his brother but then raises his own drink for a toast. ”A toast to Trunau! A toast to our new friends! And of course to Ruby and her future!”
Rodrik finishes his drink and he stands up from the group. ”I have to leave you to enjoy the night with my brother. I have an early patrol to make. It is good to celebrate with you and hopefully we can spend more time getting to know each other tomorrow.” He looks over at his brother and throws a small fake jab at this ribs. ”Vethorm, please make sure Kurst doesn’t end up kissing the pigs tonight.”
Kurst laughs. ”How could I, they’ll all be with you at the Ramblehouse”
Hilde raises her tankard and joins in the toast. "Hear, hear!" I wonder why Rodrik's staying at the Ramblehouse? Surely there's room for him with his family. She shakes her head with a smile. Not your place to ask, Hilde. Plenty of times you wanted to get out from under all the aunts and uncles! And Thorfinn was certainly well-worth the effort....
Vethorm laughs with the Grath brothers after the toast.
"Guys, GUYS! I've got TWO sisters, you know! One for each of ya!" he says before making an exaggerated grunt to punctuate the statement.
Robin chuckles quietly at the antics of the eating contest and everything that follows. With how much food is flying around though he's happy to stay out of it. Afterward he raises his mug with everyone else "To Trunau! And to all of you! It's been so lovely seeing the traditions here. Inspiring, really."
Where Hilde keeps her thoughts to herself, Robin speaks out loud after Rodrik voices his intentions "You're staying at the Ramblehouse Rodrik? And having to patrol tonight is just TOO tragic!"
Joining in the toast, Ranhild downs her ale with gusto, applauding Ruby and everyone's performance in the contests. The entire thing was a welcome change of pace, and gave a bit of insight into how strong a community Trunau is.
Purg doesn't get the joke. "They not allow pigs in Ramblehouse. Is nice place. Very clean." Purg doesn't understand why they would say things like that. He also doesn't understand why the brother would be kissing pigs, but maybe Purg just doesn't understand humans yet. He really thought he was getting the hang of them. He also doesn't understand why Vethorm is trying to sell off his sisters. Very curious. Perhaps the ale was getting to him? Yes that must be it.
"Maybe is time for sleep." With little fanfare beyond that, he gets up and starts heading back to Ramblehouse.
Wild accepts the mug from Rodrik and slurps it down without even sniffing it first. He smiles and attempts to follow him when he leaves. It is clear that he expects to oblige the glib man's earlier invitation to guide the warriors on patrol.
"Dangerous is life, yes! Off to Ramblehouse sleep and orc hunt we go!"
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Rodrik casts a weary smile to Robin. ”Thank you for your sympathy Robin. Patrols must remain vigilant, even during celebrations. As for the Ramblehouse, I have taken temporary residence there to have the peace I need to write. The Longhouse has been quite rowdy of late.” He stands and makes to go, resting his hand on Kurst shoulder. ”Goodnight to you all, and I look forward to seeing you in the morning.”
The night continues on, though the number of people slowly dwindles down. Most of the younger kids are carried back to their beds, but the older kids including Ruby, seem to have an inexhaustible level of energy. The town celebrates with the knowledge that all is well for the time being.
Eventually you all make your way to your lodging for the night. The town sleeps peacefully and dawn comes as expected. Those staying with friends or family note a level agitation out on the street, leading people towards the Ramblehouse. Those staying at the Ramblehouse cannot miss the frustration and the fear in the common room. A large crowd has gathered out front of the boarding house, with more people inside. Cham Larringfass is being comforted by other staff and outside Kurst can be seen directing members of the militia. Word in the small town has spread quickly, people are saying Patrol Leader Rodrik was found dead in his room this morning!
People are in shock but the town is coming together to support each other. After a time, Kurst catches sight of Robin and Hilde approaching, and he calls out to them. At the same time, a dwarven staff member at the Ramblehouse approaches those who were staying there. ”Wild, Ranhild, Purg.” He confirms who he Is speaking to. ”Kurst has asked if you could join meet with him. He asked for you three specifically.”
As you all approach, Kurst is found waiting with Vethorm, and he motions for the group to follow him aside. A few members of the militia keep people away so Kurst can speak privately. Once he has you alone, he begins to speak.
“I’m sure you’ve heard by now that my brother, Rodrik—some of you met him last night—was found dead this morning. Right now, the official cause of death is suicide, but I just can’t believe that. Something else has to be going on. Rodrik was the best investigator in Trunau, unfortunately I simply can’t handle the investigation and tend to my family duties at the same time. I may be a patrol captain, but right now, I feel my responsibilities as a brother outweigh my other duties. Still, I can’t just let this lie. I’m afraid I’ve exhausted all my other options—the militia are competent defenders during a siege, but they’re not sleuths by any means. I need help and I feel you six may be the best suited to do so.”
The pain registers in Kurst’s eyes but also determination as well. Kurst is clearly overwhelmed but he is doing his best to carry the burden that now rests on him.
Hilde blanches. "No...." She follows it with a short prayer in Dwarvish, then continues in Common. "I'm sorry for your loss, and I will help as best I can."
Vethorm regards the others as the arrive, so many emotions roiling in his head that they cancel each other out, leaving his face in a somber neutral position. That ends once he starts talking, though.
"Damn right something else has to be going on. Rodrik's the golden boy of town. He loved everyone and everyone loved him! Had everything going for him. Killing himself doesn't make f*kin' sense! And no one'd have a reason to kill him. I was jealous of him, yeah, but he was so damn nice that I couldn't help but like him!"
Tears start coming to his eyes as he speaks.
Arising after a thoroughly enjoyable night, Ranhild immediately notices the change in tone when she heads down to the common room of the Ramble House. Surprised at her presence being specifically requested by Kurst, she joins the others for the solemn meeting.
She's shocked to hear that Roderik was found dead, understanding just how difficult even having this conversation must be for his brother. "No, I didn't know either.... I'm so sorry." she says, looking at the grieving patrol captain. "I will absolutely help get to the bottom of whatever happened to him... if you don't mind me asking, how was he found?"
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Kurst is caught for a moment by his emotions and the sympathy, and a few tears roll down his cheek. He rests his hand on Vethorm’s shoulder and wipes his face with his sleeve. ”Thank you Vethorm. He appreciated you, more than I think you knew. And he was honest in his thanks to you all. And I thank you for the kindness.”
As Ranhild asks her question, Kurst composes himself. He may not be much of an investigator, but he seems to naturally take to his roll as patrol leader. ”Cham found Rodrik’s body this morning. That’s Cham Larringfass, she runs the Ramblehouse. She found him, his wrists cut and his bloody hopeknife still in his hand.”
Wild awakens in a groggy state, much later than the others and still encrusted with the previous night's porridge. Having little sense of the repeating cycles of night and day on the surface, he had no way to know what "early" meant anyhow. The deep gnome appears more confused than anything else but nonetheless keeps a quieter tone than usual since Kurst and others appear to be very upset.
"Deads? Rodrik friend was not supposed to be deaded yet. Meant to patrol with us today."
He scratches miscellaneous bits of detritus out of his scraggly beard while he thinks. Doesn't make sense to take your own life when we're all going to die in fire. My fault for not telling him how it ends sooner...
"Sadness in not knowing. Reasons for die is important. Hope knifes not said for the strong to do sleepy bed killing. I helper you solve problem too."
Uncertain how to react appropriately in this situation, Wild offers a nervous smile.
Kurst is caught for a moment by his emotions and the sympathy, and a few tears roll down his cheek. He rests his hand on Vethorm’s shoulder and wipes his face with his sleeve. ”Thank you Vethorm. He appreciated you, more than I think you knew. And he was honest in his thanks to you all. And I thank you for the kindness.”
As Ranhild asks her question, Kurst composes himself. He may not be much of an investigator, but he seems to naturally take to his roll as patrol leader. ”Cham found Rodrik’s body this morning. That’s Cham Larringfass, she runs the Ramblehouse. She found him, his wrists cut and his bloody hopeknife still in his hand.”
Vethorm responds to the gesture by pulling Kurst in for a hug, patting him on the back as he does. He holds on for a good minute or two, letting Kurst lean on him as long as he needs to...and as long as Vethorm needs him.
When Kurst explains the state Rodrick's body was found in, he pipes up.
"Which is another reason I think it ain't suicide: Y'all saw the ceremony yesterday, you know that when you get your hopeknife you learn EXACTLY where to cut so you bleed out quick to avoid capture by an enemy you know isn't gonna be gentle with you. Cutting his wrists wouldn't have done that, someone would've found him before he bled out. Definitely think someone murdered him and tried to make it look like he killed himself to throw the militia off the scent."
Hilde nods. "I would like to see the body as soon as possible. I'm a trained healer, and if he killed himself there will be signs." And I think I would have seen something suggesting it in his behavior.
Purg doesn't comprehend at first. They mean Rod-rick wish he was dead cause he got big head pain from ale. Surely he wouldn't... no, no one in Trunau would do that. You didn't do that, not here. He wouldn't do that to Ruby. He wouldn't do that to Purg. He would not do that to the town. Someone killed Rod-rick and that someone would have to be in the town.
"Purg not good at this, but he try. Hope someone big smart is helping, because otherwise we in trouble." He's holding back tears. This was someone he looked up to, and now they are dead. People dying in attacks was one thing, you expected the bad ones to get one or two every so often, but this was not what people did. You don't kill your friends, you don't kill your family, and these were all friends and family. It just didn't make sense. Less sense than usual, even. Humans were silly, they were not smart, but they still did not do things this bad.
"When we find who kill Rod-rick, some one have to promise that they kill them. Or Purg will. Purg very sad-mad right now. Later he just be mad. Lose too many friend already." He was in tears now. Large tears streaming down his cheeks, and an extremely disgusting bit of snot hanging from his nose. He didn't even suck it back in, that's how distraught he is.
Robin doesn't hesitate at all in giving Kurst a hug as well. [b}"I can't imagine... how something like this could have happened here. In the middle of town. In the Ramblehouse of all places! And to such a good person..."[/b] He releases Kurst and turns to the others "Of course I'll help try to find him as well."
At the description of how Rodrik was found, he says "As much as I hate putting you through it again, we should see the body. We don't have any idea what happened, but between seeing it ourselves and talking to Cham maybe we can work it out."
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”Thank you everyone.” Kurst says through a waves of tears as he is overcome with the support. ”I don’t know what I expected but I am truly grateful for your help here. Purg and Vethorm share my assessment it seems. Rodrik wouldn’t kill himself. By his own account, he was in love and had been planning to marry shortly. He would never put Brinya through this.”
Kurst pauses for a second in thought. ”Speaking of Brinya, I am hoping in your attempt to find out what has happened you could look in on her. She’s a weaver, Brinya Kelver, and perhaps she may know more about his state of mind lately. I would appreciate knowing that she is okay, as Rodrik cared deeply about her.”
”His body has already been moved to Sanctuary to be prepared for cremation, but I can send word to hold off for you to examine him Hilde, if you feel it may answer some questions. And Cham has been cooperative so far, I would expect she will be more than willing to speak with you. And perhaps show you his room as well.”
"I'm certain Rodrik wouldn't!" Robin pats Kurst on the back "And we'll definitely talk with Brinya as well."
He turns to the other 'investigators' gathered thanks to Kurst's summons. "We have to find who did this, and fast. Since we're already here, how about we start with Cham and find out if there's anything in the room where they found Rodrik?" He bites his lip "And hopefully even before we do, someone talks to Brinya. I can't imagine how awful this all is for her as well."
Vethorm nods vigorously before wiping his face and turning back to Kurst with a still-teary glare.
"And when we find the gorthekf***er who did this, I'll drag them back to you and Brinya so you two can strangle them yourselves," he says darkly.
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Purg knows he is not the one to do the talking. He would say the wrong thing and this was not the time. Talking to Brinya would be the wrong thing to do. It would be the wrong thing. It would... "Purg go talk to Brinya. He not know anything about dead bodies so not be helpful there. Purg good at crying maybe help Brinya cry." He's still a bit of a mess, and surely not to be trusted going alone.
"You're too sweet Purg! Alright, we'll check in with Cham and then catch up with you afterward at Brinya's. Take a buddy..." Robin waves at the rest of the group to see if anyone is interested "and be safe out there."
He heads for Cham to see what she knows.
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"I'll go with Purg," Vethorm volunteers. "We gotta give her something more than kind words...like some food or something. So she doesn't gotta cook for herself as much while she's grieving. While we're all grieving."
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”I can’t thank you enough.” Kurst says as he steels himself for the tasks he will now need to handle. He carries the weight of his obligation well, but soon the exhaustion will likely begin to show soon. ”If you need me, please look for me at the Longhouse. If I am not there, leave a note and I will get it shortly enough. Now I must return to my father and see that he is well. Thank you.”
As Kurst turns to leave he looks to Vethorm. ”My friend, please do me one more favor.” Kurst draws out a hopeknife from his belt and hands it to Vethorm. ”This is Rodrik’s hopeknife. I don’t know if it will help find the truth, but it’s best you have it just in case. As is tradition, the knife should be placed with him at his memorial, so please keep it safe.”
Wild is strangely at a loss for words for a while. His traumatic past, coupled with his faith, has dulled any typical emotional response to death. Yet he still wants to help find answers if he can. He follows Robin to go speak with Cham.
"If anyone sees who was killer, Cham sees. Then we gets them for the knowing of why."
Vethorm accepts the hopeknife from Kurst and grips the hilt tightly, holding it to his chest as he bows his head.
"I will."
He turns to Purg.
"Let's swing by the Barterstones on the way. They'll probably have some stuff we can toss together to make something for her."
"Glad to have you Wild. You've seen a lot I'm sure, maybe you can make sense of the crime scene. Hilde and Ranhild, are you coming with us? We could use the extra sets of eyes." Robin extends a hand to Wild and waves to the two dwarves.
"I'm not sure how much help I would be, but if there's anything I can do, I will." Rahild replies solemnly.
Robin pumps his fist "I'm sure a lot! Now lets get to Cham." He leads the way.
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Robin, Wild, Ranhild and Hilde make their way through the crowd gathered at the Ramblehouse in order to find Cham Larringfass. Shortly they spot the halfling proprietor standing next to the bar in the common room. Most guests are keeping clear but her staff are clearly providing what comfort they can given the situation. As the group approaches Cham makes note and smiles weakly at them.
”Wild. Miss Runeshield.” She greets her guests with an attempt at warmth. ”I am sorry for the commotion today. I assume you have heard that another guest, Rodrik, was found dead this morning in his room.” At the mention of Rodrik her smile fades and she chokes up for a second.
”Pardon me, I am sorry. This day has weighed on me more than I thought I guess. Now, what can I do for you and your companions?” Cham smiles again at the entire group in an effort to instill some semblance of a normal day.
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Purg and Vethorm head off to Barterstones in order to pull together some food before they head out to the boarding house where Brinya is supposedly staying.
With food in hand the two approach the boarding house where they ask to speak with Brinya Kelver. A few minutes later a young half-orc woman comes down to the sitting room where Purg and Vethorm are waiting. Her deep red hair is a little unkempt and her eye are puffy from crying. She is weary but stands tall, almost defiant. ”I am Brinya. You wish to speak with me?
After a few seconds she seems to realize who you are. ”I apologize, I did not recognize you. You must be Purg. And you must be Vethorm. Rodrik spoke well of you both at times. It is kind of you to come to pay your respects, though I must admit I am unsure.”
She sits in a chair across from the two visitors, wringing her worn hands to await what they wish to say.
Despite his cooking experience being mostly limited to helping his mother in the kitchen, Vethorm is able to take the goat meat, vegetables, copious amounts of oil and herbs purchased at the Barterstones, bring them back to his house, and combine them into a large, delicious-smelling deep-fried pasty.
It's still piping hot when they take it to Brinya's.
"Aye, Brinya. We made this for you," he says, holding out the dish with the pasty in it. "Goat meat, onions, garlic, peppers, turnips, and my mom's secret herb blend, all-wrapped in a deep-fried dough."
Once Brinya takes it, he rubs the back of his head, trying to think of something to say.
"Rodrik spoke well of everybody...that's...that was one the best things about him. He saw the best in all of us. Even in a guy like me. I'm...gonna miss him too. If you need anything, anything at all, me and my folks and my brothers and sisters'll be there for you. Anything to help out a fellow dromaar."
Purg lets the other two start things off. He doesn't have the gift for saying the right things, so he leaves it to those better able. "Rod-rick always very nice to Purg. What you not-sure of? Good to talk. Maybe three head figure out. Purg often not-sure, so he talk much. Still not-sure, but sometimes better." He smiles at Brinya. "If it help you can bonk Purg on head. It squish but also go back to round." To illustrate, he gives his noggin a little bonk. It does indeed squish slightly, then return to shape. "Mine not bounce so good like some goblin, so please not throw Purg."
His smile falters a little, not at the thought of violence on his person. He knows Brinya wouldn't really hurt him, but sometimes you need to let things out and hitting was a way.
"We've been speaking with Kurst, Ms. Larringfass. He believes there might be something to learn from checking out the scene of...the incident, and perhaps even his body" Ranhild explains.
"Cham we heard the news! I don't understand why anyone would ever do something like that to Rodrik. It's just-" Robin shakes his head "I don't know, I can't believe it. It couldn't be suicide." He looks over at Ranhild "Right, Kurst was asking if we could investigate what happened. Maybe find out if there was anything suspicious. If it turns out there was something sinister happening we'll want to find the culprit before they can do anything else."
"Can you tell us more about what you saw? When you last saw him the night before? And anything suspicious that might've happened last night? What with the whole celebration I'm sure this place was busy."